Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:
I just now returned from our bowling alley located on the main floor of our Armed Forces Retirement Home in Gulfport, Mississippi, where it's currently cloudy, with occasional showers.
What a disaster!
It was the very first time I've been bowling since I came here last October.
Our bowling alley is automatic, so no attendent is on duty or necessary, allowing us to bowl whenever we want to, at any hour of the day or night.
All facilities here at the Home are like that, requiring only the electronic card key that opens the door to our rooms to be used to also open any of the other doors, such as the bowling alley, the library, the firearms and munitions locker, and the clinic's narcotics cabinet.
When I used to live at the Old Soldiers' Home in Washington, D.C., I bought myself a brand new pair of bowling shoes, plus a bowling thumb protector, which I wore only once when using their bowling alley.
Anyway, this morning, I felt reasonably fit, so I figured I'd try out the bowling alley here.
After all, I need to get some use out of those brand new bowling shoes and that bowling thumb protector!
Well, I began bowling, and - - -
Boy, did it strain the muscles in my back!
I wasn't expecting all that sudden pain!
Fortunately, there was a sort of fence or bannister right next to my lane, so I could grab it.
At one point, my feet did slip out from under me, but the fall didn't do any damage.
What really bothered me was I kept fouling, over and over and over again.
I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong.
My total score for the one game was - - - EIGHTEEN!!!
Can you believe it?
As I was leaving, a gal and a boy came in, who were apparently visiting someone here.
Since they required assistance, I monkeyed with the electronic gizmos to figure out how to start their game.
None of the available bowling shoes fit them, so they had to play in street shoes.
Once they got started, I returned to my room.
Maybe I'll try bowling again, but not by myself.
I still don't know what I was doing to continually foul, and I'm a little leery of hurting my back even more than it already is.
It's rather discouraging to suddenly realize I can no longer do the manly stuff I used to do, such as backpacking, hiking, camping, mountain climbing, tae kwon do, combat assaults, et cetera.
What will I do when our civil war begins (which it's about to do)?
When the fighting starts, I want to do my part to help restore our lost republic, but - - - ?
Hey, I just now thought of something - - - ,
I enjoy watching all those freight trains pass by here, and since boxcar doors have seals placed on them when they're shut, could we refer to them as - - - , "trained seals"?
Here's something else I just remembered - - - ,
Today is Friday!
Do you know what THAT means?
Our ship's mast flagpole out in front of the Home is displaying the United States Navy signal flags indicating, "T.G.I.F."!!!
I really get a kick out seeing that!